In Which Kendall Tries to Live a Little
by Mr. Omelette
Summary: "You know, ever since you got casted as Logan Mitchell, Carlos has been trying to steal you from me." "I love you, you love me, we love each other, man." Kogan!friendship real-verse oneshot


Disclaimer: I do not own BTR

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><p><strong>In Which Kendall Tries to Live a Little<br>**

Kendall stirred from his drunken stupor. He was on the couch. Or at the floor. Maybe a bit of both. It's kinda hard to differentiate what's up and what's down when you've had half a dozen bottles of booze shoved down your throat. He can't feel his left leg, and there's this cold stabbing feeling on his spleen, or stomach. And the moment he opened his eyes, he felt like his head just set off a landmine.

"Urgh, my head." He managed after trying to steady himself, accompanied by the realization of talking into a shirted abdomen.

"Crap." Logan hissed at the sound of Kendall's voice breaking the silence.

Somehow, Kendall feels a bit violated. Like someone just copped a feel at him.

"What happened?"

Logan groaned, making an earthquake-like movement on Kendall's pillow, er… Logan's abdomen.

It took him approximately two minutes to realize that their clothes are still intact and that they're still inside their apartment. _Good, so nothing embarrassing happened yet_. Or so, he'd like to think. On another note, there's a crapload of empty beer bottles all over their living room, and Kendall has yet to see Carlos and James.

Before you judge, however, consider this; their in their late teens and early twenties. They were distanced from family and mundane life. This kind of things happened.

"Lesson number one," Kendall groaned and groggily placed his head in his friend's stomach, "karaoke and booze do not mix." And despite the fact that last night's formation of their unnamed band and their immediate relocation to their awesome pad, celebrating should not be equated with booze _and _karaoke. It just shouldn't.

"Sorry," Logan reached over and patted the other boy on the hair, "but O-Town and Queen just gets me going."

"_Under pressure_." Kendall, despite the throbbing hangover, could feel himself smiling.

Logan half-groaned and half-laughed, "_Pushin' down on me_."

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><p>By the time their show made its debut, Kendall's pretty sure that the sweet taste of fame is really at the touch of his lips.<p>

Until, of course, their first set of hate mail arrived.

They had different ways of dealing with the hate, but it all boiled down to some semblance of negative energy hung over their heads.

James and Carlos were used to it; James had this complicated relationship with it since forever, probably because his first experience with threats and hatred were in his early grade school years. And Carlos? He had his on _Ned's Declassified School Survival Guide_. Or maybe it was when he did those theatre plays? Anyway, those two knew how to deal with it, and it only took a couple of hours (_damn_, Kendall thought) to get over it.

But Logan and him? Not so much.

Logan stressed over it; rereading ever hate mail over and over and _over_ again that Kendall actually thought he was reading fanmail.

"Do I really smile like a self-indulged porn star?"

"Is my teeth really that crooked?"

"Does my voice sound worse that a cracking prepubescent Beiber?"

Kendall, James and Carlos gladly told Logan that it shouldn't bother him. That haters are always gonna hate. It took a bit of effort, but Logan got the hang of it.

But Kendall, at first he taught it was silly, even laughed at some of their tries. Most of them were written by illiterates and leet users anyway. People who use curse words so much, it's laughable. But then, it got… under his and his management's skin.

He is aware that his eyebrows are… distinct. He knows it's the Kendall Schmidt trait.

He knows that his dancing needs to be polished.

Even his pitch in singing needs some work.

Kendall may have realized that they have their own Wikipedia webpage, and that the stalker who wrote it got most of the facts straight. But he was still messing up on stage. He still (sometimes) forgot lyrics, forgot his rap lines, forgot dance steps by more than a millisecond drag. No amount of James' vocal coaching could put him in his place.

"You're getting there." James said, when in actuality Kendall would like to think that James meant to say that _'You're the biggest fuckup in the history of world-class fuckups.'_

Being casted with Logan's help did not mean a thing. Just because he was blessed with girl-approved looks and could play the guitar did not equate to setting himself above the rest who had dedicated some years of their lives to reach what he's reached. Not even his own youtube account could testify for him – that he deserves all the attention and adulation he's receiving. Kendall's days passed with hardened struggle to reach a higher plane of creativity.

The Nickelodeon management told him that he needed to be reserved during interviews; let veteran James handle the group – at least until he doesn't sound like a douche anymore when spoken to. Two extra hours were added to his daily routine, so he could dance like a dancer, sing like a singer, rap like a legit rapper, and lead like the true leader of the group – like his pay check depended on it.

They ordered him to not be Kendall anymore, but be _better_.

Above all the crap, however, Kendall's surprised that Logan's always there supporting him.

"Don't worry, Kendall. You'll get the hang of it."

"Nah, some people find your mistakes kind of cute. Don't let it get to you."

"Screw people who say you can't sing. Your youtube account is enough proof that you _can_ sing! Just forget about those lazy asses."

"If it's any consolation, I think you dance better than me."

Kendall could feel the grin forming; yep, supporting him indeed.

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><p>When their show was getting good feedback and when they seemed to be getting <em>less<em> hate, Carlos approached their leader as soon as his make-up was done. "So, Logan and I have been talking."

Kendall maintained a calm face, backstage ruckus always felt like the seconds before the storm to him. "Yeah?" That or maybe he's paranoid. Which he is, given that it's their first show of their tour.

"If they ask about any new projects," Carlos intoned, "tell them that we're planning on changing the band name from 'Big Time Rush' to 'James Sings Like A Mating Whale'."

"WHAT THE FUCK I HEARD THAT!" James' retort rang across the backstage hall. He glared angrily at the oldest, three people doing his hair with their make-up artist doing his face.

"James, Language." Logan joined two seconds later. Logan had the simpler of looks, and Kendall is irritated because Logan should get at least half the detail they're showering over him, James and Carlos. Logan's also got the personality to back it up too! So why? Just beca-

"Dolphin Logan. Carlos grizzly bear. Kendall rooster." Carlos identified.

"Did you just make me the chicken? It's not even a mammal. You suck." Kendall sniffed, earning a couple of chuckles from their staff.

"It's still hot-blooded." Logan shrugged. Without even reprimanding Kendall for his use of colorful words. He feels a bit special, not because it's aleader privilege to curse, but because it's more on the fact that Logan doesn't mother hen him. Well, at least not in front of the other guys.

Despite the accumulation of body heat, emission from lighting generators and carbon-dioxide, the hall was still cold because Kendall could not feel himself sweat when a staff fixed the microphone into his shirt. Opening music boomed from the front stage speakers. For a frantic ten minutes, everything was touch and go. Finishing everything with group cheers and prayers and all

From where Logan and Kendall stood, they could peek through the partition of dark curtains.

Looking at the set where four chairs propped on the stage was something that needed getting used to.

"You ready?" Logan asked. Kendall chanced a swift glance at the shorter boy but could barely hear him in the deafening _boy-boy-boy-bo-bo-boy-bo-bo-boyfriend_ of bass, so he read his lips.

And he saw the familiarity – the jittery but excited look in his eyes.

He envied that look, because all Kendall could feel is the desire to not fail. To not mess up. There's a lot on the line in this tour.

Looking to where Carlos and James are at the other side of the stage, he sighed in a way that calmed his nerves. "Yeah." Kendall replied after some time. He listened to a crew member's voice counting down the ten seconds in his earpiece. "It's now or never."

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><p>When the hate mails and barrage of internet threats decreased<em> some more<em>, by approximately seventy-percent, they fell back on the growing amount of love from fans who still wanted to see them perform, fans who still cared to watch and listen – taking into account that one fan actually stalked them and kept sending baked pastries everyday for three weeks. Where it ended with Carlos and Logan getting queasy stomachs.

Currently, Kendall's at the apartment, with nothing to do because tour just ended, and the second season is not until a few months. He'll not be visiting his family until everything's settled here – which basically means a couple of days (weeks even) being cooped up inside the confines of their epic but lonely pad.

A thought comes into mind and he makes a quick grab of his phone. "Hey, Logan. Want to hang out today?"

There was a laugh on the other end of the line before Logan replied, "I'm sorry, Ken, I can't. Carlos is taking me to meet some of his friends. We're going to a bowling alley." Kendall could hear Carlos and someone talking about pizza and cheese muffins, "It's been forever since I've been into one."

"Oh." He slumps into his seat in the living room couch and picks up the remote. "Okay, Logan. Have fun." Not wanting to receive any more sympathy from Logan, he killed the call.

With James out on a solo interview, and Carlos taking Logan out with his friends, he's by himself in their apartment. Lonely indeed.

The second time he tried, he was met up with a similar reply.

"I'm sorry, Kendall. But Carlos and I have been invited to this theatre premier, and management said we have to go."

And the third. As well as fourth and fifth.

On his sixth try, on his second week of being cooped up inside the apartment (since BTR's management is very particular and neurotic about going about with their personal leisure time), Kendall has had it.

"I'm sorry Kendall. Carlos said–"

"You know, ever since you've got casted as Logan Mitchell, he's been trying to steal you from me."

"But the management–"

"Screw the management, Logan, I've been caged here for days. I gotta go out." He doesn't care that he's sounding whiny.

"You could always hang out with James."

"I will _not_ spend time with mating whale."

"Hey!" was James exclamation from the kitchen.

Kendall angrily got up from the couch and walked towards the bedroom he shared with Logan. "Can't we have just one selfish Kendall day? It's been so long since we've had one."

"Kendall, I'm really sorry." Was what Logan said before killing their call. Leaving a sulking and very defeated Kendall.

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><p>That night, Kendall was surprised with what Logan brought home. Something rectangular in a white plastic bag.<p>

"Look," Logan cornered Kendall in the living room, "we're members of a band under one of the best managements in the entire world. And for them to sign our pay checks, we have to do what's best for their and our interest."

"I know that." Kendall replied, "But I just want so me time."

"I get that. But we're working now, Kendall."

Kendall sighs, unconsciously observing the two other people eavesdropping. Logan probably caught his eye because what he said definitely got him going.

"Listen. I love you, man."

"I love you too." Kendall replied hastily, averting his gaze from him.

"I know; I love you, you love me, we love each other." Kendall shrugged, "The point is, we're no longer gonna be like before."

"Are you two being serious?" James asked, brows shaped in an odd position. Carlos is beside him, equally perplexed. "Is this conversation really happening?"

Kendall can't contain it anymore, and he burst out laughing, gaining more looks of puzzlement form his band members. Soon, Logan was following his lead. Laughing that distinct, sincere Logan laugh.

"You should've seen your faces." Kendall laughed some more.

"You're just joking around, aren't you?" Carlos asked.

"Yeah. We do it all the time around our friends. People say it's a scary bromance movie." Logan said, patting Carlos in the shoulder.

James had the urge to roll his eyes, "You guys are weird." Carlos nodded in reply. Carlos and James were scheduled for some interview, and this is where Logan really got his surprise out.

"Listen, I know it's too late for a selfish Kendall day," Logan brought something out from their shared room, "But we could still have a selfish Kendall night." He raised three DVDs, "Shawshank, Rudy, or Terminator." Then he raised three other disks, "Or we could play videogames." Logan grinned, "And yes, we could play Halo just so you could rub it in my face about how much I suck at it."

Kendall could already feel himself grinning, which Logan clearly reciprocated, "Or we could just chill in our room, surf for Vans shoes online while I read my books. I'll order takeout too, and we could drink that awful soda that you like."

Logan kept babbling about the things they could do, and he's really babbling. Talking and talking. And Kendall can't hear the words anymore, that, he's just seeing his friend's lips move and open and close.

"So what do you think?" the blonde realized that his friend is finished with his rant.

"Thank you."

Logan raised a brow, "You didn't answer my question."

"Thank you." He repeated. _Sincerelier_, if Kendall could make that word real.

"I don't get it."

Kendall chuckled, "Forget it, just plug Halo in and let the slaughter begin."

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><p>AN: fine, so I am a fan of Kendall and Logan's friendship. It's kinda envious, really. So I made this! :D


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